Close Quarters
by DarthLoon
Summary: Filoni left us room for interpretation. I'm interpreting.
1. Bahryn

The howling wind, the biting cold… It all nags at Zeb's memory as he fights off sleep. He's not where he's supposed to be, that much he knows. There's a subtle warmth at his chest, and a scent he wants to bathe in. It's familiar somehow, but different from before… Before? What was before? What's now?

Zeb opens his eyes. A pair of soft brown ones greet him.

Kallus. The moon. The crash.

 _Kallus_. Staring at him with such…reverence, from mere inches away.

And suddenly Zeb remembers all the little looks Kallus had given him over the course of their night together. Pained looks, but not the pain of a broken leg. They were pained looks of guilt, pained looks of gratitude that somehow worked their way past the hatred Zeb feels for the man and lodged themselves in a place deep inside him that hasn't felt anything in a long time.

Now a look of pained adoration.

Zeb shivers, and not from the cold.

Kallus _is_ shivering from the cold, though. They're on their sides curled around the meteorite, keeping its warmth boxed in. It throws a gentle golden light onto the imperial's fair, freckled skin. His lips are nearly blue.

Zeb thinks he can solve that problem very quickly. And then he realizes he wants to kiss him. Agent fucking Kallus. The imperial asshole who has sought to destroy everything he loves and has ever loved.

Terror grips every fiber of Zeb's being. This is slowly slipping out of his control.

Kallus has already peeled off his glove by the time Zeb notices he's reaching for his face. Frozen fingers brush through the hair along Zeb's jaw, trace the stripes on his cheek.

"You're beautiful," Kallus breathes.

So much for _slowly_ slipping out of Zeb's control. Between those words, the hand stroking his face and those eyes shining at him brighter than the damn meteorite, Zeb finds himself paralyzed with want. That's what scares him the most. The want. It's something he can't control. Something he shouldn't have to.

"You're delirious," Zeb finally says back.

Kallus casts his eyes down. "Maybe," he mutters pitifully, and starts to pull his hand away. Before he can stop himself Zeb grabs the human's wrist, holds it, as he panics in his mind. He has to make a decision now. Yes or no.

The agent's eyes are on him again, penitent this time. More so than before, now that he has this to be sorry about. And this is the warrior of Chava's prophecy, who hunted them all the way into wild space?

The prophecy. The Boosahn Keeraw. Onderon. What is it about this human that keeps drawing him to Zeb's people? To Zeb himself? Who is this fragile person emerging from the imperial shell, the one he'd seen in every pained look he'd gotten throughout the night? And most importantly, why does Zeb feel so drawn to him?

Zeb needs these answers, for some bloody reason. It's too good an opportunity not to get them, so he puts Kallus' hand back where it was against his cheek. It immediately resumes its ministrations.

"How'd you know my name's Garazeb?"

Kallus gives a little nod, like he knows Zeb needs answers. With his hand still on Zeb's face, Kallus offers them up.

"After Lasan, every Honor Guard captain was accounted for except one. I've known your name for a long time. When I heard there was a rebel Lasat on Lothal I had to see for myself. I asked to be stationed there. I found you, I fought you and I knew you were Garazeb Orrelios."

" _I'm_ the reason we got stuck with you?" Zeb asks incredulously. Then again, maybe it's not so incredulous after all.

"It wasn't hard to convince Governor Tarkin I could deal with whatever threat you posed. I brought my bo-rifle to that meeting to prove it. I may not have taken it as a trophy but I've done nothing to stop everyone else from thinking that. I used it to get to you."

Zeb feels Kallus' hand tremble against his cheek, and notices Kallus is no longer shivering.

"I'm not gonna pretend like you having it doesn't piss me off. But the guardsman wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't think you were worthy of it somehow. And he wouldn't have given it to you if you had anything to do with those disruptors."

"I was armed with one. Ordered to use it against any Lasat that stood in our way."

"Did you?" Zeb has to ask.

"I used it. I fought him with it, but I never fired it. I knocked the bo-rifle from his hands with it. I picked that up instead and…ran him through with it. Before he died, he told me to take it. He told me if I had any honor, I'd use the bo-rifle in battle instead of disruptors, or any other imperial killing machine. He said at least then I'd have to earn my kills like a real warrior, like I had with him."

"Is that why you use it? So you can feel like a real warrior?" Zeb doesn't exactly mean it as a taunt, and Kallus doesn't take it as one.

"I suppose so," the human admits with a sad sigh. "It's not like any other weapon. I can _feel_ it. It feels alive. Especially in a fight."

This should surprise Zeb more than it does. A human forging that kind of connection with a Lasat bo-rifle is unheard of. But this isn't any human. The bo-rifle finds him a worthy wielder, and a bo-rifle is never wrong.

"Especially in a fight with you," Kallus adds, voice softer now. "And I nearly killed you with it."

"You probably would have if it wasn't for Ezra."

A flash of unbearable guilt and those brown eyes are gone again. Same with the hand. Kallus curls in on himself. "I'm sorry," he croaks pitifully. "I'm sorry for everything."

Zeb says nothing. What can he say? He can't say it's okay, because it's not okay. The apology brings Zeb none of the satisfaction he thought it would. In fact, he's sorry Kallus has to feel sorry. The reason for this is not yet clear to Zeb, so he forges on.

"The mercenary on Onderon, do you remember the weapon he used?"

When Kallus looks at him again, his eyes are distant. The warmth from before is replaced with the trauma of his past. But the man's past is not a monster Zeb can protect him from.

"Was it a bo-rifle?" he specifies. He needs to know.

Kallus frowns intently. Zeb can see that he's gone there in his mind, back to Onderon with the Lasat who killed his unit. The longer Kallus stays there, the more Zeb wants him back here with him.

So when Kallus finally says, "I don't know," Zeb doesn't push it.

"Was he the first Lasat you ever saw in person?"

"I saw the senator from Lasan and her delegation a few times, growing up on Coruscant."

A wave of relief sweeps over Zeb. Not only has the warmth returned to Kallus' eyes, he's just given Zeb something to poke fun at.

"Coruscanti, eh? No wonder you're such a dedicated imperial."

"I've always been a loyal soldier," Kallus counters, rather unconvincingly.

"Loyalty's meant to be earned. What's the empire done to earn yours?"

Kallus considers the question at length. After several seconds, the human shoots Zeb a look that's almost playful. A version of the look he got whenever Kallus had the opportunity to fight him. "Are you trying to recruit me?"

The thrill of their fight is different now. Their _fight_ is different now. Zeb strikes back in kind. "Do I look like the guy they send to recruit people?"

"Whatever you're doing, it won't work."

"Whatever I'm doing, it's working a little."

Zeb huddles a little closer to Kallus for effect. And what an effect it has. The human's face turns from pale white to bright pink in a matter of seconds.

The _want_ tears through Zeb again, uncontrollable. He wants that hand on him again, but he won't go so far as to take it. He wants it to be given. Now that they've come to a better understanding of each other, Zeb thinks he can get it.

"D'you really think they're gonna come for you?" he asks.

"I don't know."

"You're better off coming with me if you don't want to die on this frozen rock. We can drop you off at the nearest spaceport."

Kallus' eyes go wide. "You'd let me go? Just like that?"

"I would, yeah. Hera might have other ideas but I think she'll listen to me." There's no way in hell Hera would listen to him, but Kallus doesn't know that. "We all have to live with the choices we make. I can live with saving your life and sending you on your way. You have to live with whatever you choose to do."

Zeb's words sit with Kallus for a long time, and the Lasat gets nervous after a while. He can't tell what Kallus is thinking. And then he gets an answer he's not expecting.

"I can't leave this moon with you. I'm the reason you're here. I chased you here. I've been chasing you all this time. I can live with dying here."

He can see the notion clearly scares Kallus, and that's what gets Zeb the most. That he's willing to give up his one chance of survival in an attempt to atone, despite his fear of wasting away here, forgotten and alone.

Kallus' death is something that would've given Zeb immense satisfaction in the very recent past. But just like the apology, it holds nothing of the sort for him.

"Say someone finds you, whether it's the empire or smugglers passing through the system. You gonna go back to chasing me?"

"If I don't, someone else will. Someone else will anyway, but I… I may be able to slow them down."

Wait. What's happening here? Did he just hear what he thinks he heard? Did Kallus just offer to help the rebellion by hindering the empire? His empire? Zeb tries not to let on how shocked he is but knows he's doing a piss poor job of it.

"Thought you were a loyal soldier," he stammers.

Kallus' next words come without hesitation. "Loyalty's meant to be earned."

Is this even possible? Earning the loyalty of a man who mere hours ago was touting the might of the empire? That hand reaches for him again, but it's on his chest now, palm flat, fingers digging into his armor so hard he can feel it.

"You could've left me at the bottom of that cave to die," Kallus continues, voice cracking up. "You could've killed me yourself. You had every right to but you didn't."

"I could kill you right now if that'll take the edge off," Zeb says, half joking, half wanting to know how Kallus will respond.

"I won't fight back. No one would know."

Zeb gets the feeling Kallus isn't joking. "Not after all that work I did keeping you alive."

"And why did you? I never understood why the mercenary let me live or why the guardsman gave me his rifle. I need to know why you saved me."

Zeb's still not sure how to answer that question. The answer has been evolving of late, and he can barely keep up with it.

"Every life's worth something. Even yours," he offers.

"What's my life worth to you?" Kallus asks, desperate.

Zeb has to give him something. So he does, though he suspects it's not everything. "You have a history with my people. I couldn't let it end here. Not like this. I don't want to be the last Lasat you ever see."

A look of such wonder fills Kallus' face that Zeb thinks he might know about Lira San. But a much more immediate question begs to be asked.

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"You think I'm…beautiful?"

Kallus' smile takes the breath right from Zeb's lungs, and the word 'beautiful' echoes in his mind. It's the first smile he's seen from the man that didn't come from the joy of battle. That place inside Zeb that had long been dormant has roared to new life thanks to soft looks, earnest confessions and the realization that he's very very attracted to certain humans all of a sudden.

"Yes," Kallus answers firmly. His hand wanders back up to Zeb's face. He strokes Zeb's cheek and brow like he's a precious artifact in danger of being broken. "You are the most magnificent being I've ever met."

If Zeb had any trouble believing that, the feel of those nimble fingers on him would have gotten him there. The smile slowly fades from Kallus' face.

"Maybe I knew you would be," the human says, troubled by this revelation.

"Is that why you followed me into the pod?"

"What if it is? What if I didn't give it a moment's thought?"

Kallus looks at Zeb like he could somehow have the answers to these questions.

As far as Zeb's concerned there are no answers to any of this. Not yet. Just more questions. They're figuring it out as they go. It might be messy and complicated but what Zeb feels right now is pretty damn straightforward. And he trusts himself. It's how he's survived for as long as he has.

He fixes Kallus with a grin of his own. "If you wanted to get me alone, you could'a just asked."

Kallus can't help but chuckle a little despite the pink rising to his cheeks. "Apparently chasing you across the galaxy is more my style."

"Well, you finally managed to catch me," Zeb says, scooting ever closer. "What're you gonna do with me?"

Kallus stares long and hard at Zeb before he finally murmurs, "I'm going to watch you run away from me again. This time I won't follow."

But Zeb _wants_ Kallus to follow him. Not to chase him but to join him in the fight. Kallus' fight will be different, Zeb understands this. He just has to make sure it leads Kallus back to him.

Zeb rolls on top of the man, careful not to hurt his leg, and pins him to the ground. Wide brown eyes look up at him like he's the only thing in the universe that matters. It's those eyes that started it all. Sad eyes that invited Zeb inside to shake loose the imperial foundations of Kallus' life. Honest eyes that make Zeb believe this could be something. Something good, something important. Something rebellious.

So he kisses Kallus. The human's lips are smaller than what Zeb's used to, but so very needy against his own. In fact Kallus' whole body clings tight to Zeb, arms wrapping around him like he's been waiting for this, aching for it. He whimpers helplessly as Zeb kisses the empire right out of him.

When they pull apart they're both panting, breath coming in puffs from the cold air around them. Kallus' eyes are still closed and Zeb thinks for a moment he might have hurt him. When he opens them they're filled with tears. Tears of joy, Zeb assumes, by the way he smiles with kiss-swollen lips. It's a good look for Kallus. Zeb wants to kiss him again but restrains himself.

"Take that back to the empire with you," he rumbles. A momentary flash of dread in Kallus' eyes inspires a similar one in Zeb. What if this is where it stops? What if, for whatever reason, this is all he gets of this version of Kallus?

No. It can't be. This has come too far to end here.

"You will make it back," Zeb insists, just as much for himself as for Kallus.

Kallus' arms slacken from around Zeb and he's sad for their loss. That is, until a pair of hands grasps him on either side of his face, thumbs stroking over cheekbones. "And then what?" Kallus asks, voice barely even there.

Zeb can't tell Kallus what to do, as much as he'd like to. Whatever happens, he needs it to be Kallus' choice. Zeb knows Kallus is strong enough to choose the way Zeb wants him to choose. It's just a matter of whether Kallus knows it too. So he gives a little shrug and says, "That's up to you."

Kallus nods, and Zeb takes that as a good sign. "Will I see you again?"

The Lasat rolls back onto his side, taking Kallus with him. He gathers the human into his arms, breathes him in. There's that scent, the one he's been smelling since he woke up. It lulls him into a state of tranquility. "One way or another," Zeb answers, and he truly believes that.

"Thank you, Garazeb."

"You can call me Zeb, you know."

"That's what your friends call you. I feel I haven't earned the right."

"You have."

"My name is Alexsandr."

Zeb pulls the man tighter against his chest as sleep starts to pull him under. "Nice to meet you, Alexsandr."


	2. Fulcrum Part 1

It's been two months. Phoenix Squadron has a permanent base on Atollon now, and they haven't heard so much as a whisper of ISB Agent Kallus.

Zeb goes there a lot, in his mind. Back to Bahryn. Back to that little slice of reality they carved for themselves. Sometimes he wonders if it even happened, or if he dreamt the whole thing. All he has are the memories and that feeling he gets when he thinks of the man. A feeling of emptiness and want.

The phrase 'I may be able to slow them down' echoes in Zeb's thoughts, and he mulls endlessly over what it means. What did it mean then, and what does it mean now? Today? What is Kallus doing at this very moment? What is he thinking? Is he thinking of Zeb? And most importantly, is he the man who revealed himself to Zeb on that moon? Or is it possible he could have reverted back to the imperial who'd chased him into the pod? Zeb has a feeling that's not the case, but he can't know for sure. And he hates not knowing for sure. Without some kind of clue, this limbo of uncertainty will drag on.

"Something on your mind, Captain?"

Zeb hadn't even noticed Ahsoka standing in front of him. She, Kanan and Ezra are about to leave for Malachor.

He clears his throat. "Just make sure you all come back in one piece, eh? The Rebellion needs the Jedi."

"That may be true, but it survives because of those willing to throw off the yoke of the empire. And some have much heavier yokes."

Ahsoka gives him a wry smile. Zeb has no idea why but it makes his stomach feel light.

"Plant seeds of hope in the most barren of places and there you'll find the strongest growth."

His blood turns to ice in his veins. Most _barren_ of places? She can't just be uttering meaningless Jedi proverbs at him. This is Fulcrum, for kriff's sake. Everything she says has a purpose, has meaning. There's no one else within earshot, so her words must be for his ears only.

"What are you… What do you…" He doesn't even know what to ask. None of it makes any sense in his head. It's all feeling.

Ahsoka steps closer and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Even if I don't return, Phoenix Squadron will still have its Fulcrum."

With a final knowing smirk, she turns and makes her way onto the _Phantom_. Hera says her final goodbyes to Kanan, Ezra and Chopper and within seconds, the _Phantom_ is gone. This all passes in front of Zeb's eyes without him even seeing. He's frozen to the spot, paralyzed in body and mind.

He's about to burst from within when a voice asks, "Hey Zeb, you okay?"

Sabine is looking at him with one eyebrow quirked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Tired is all. Gonna get some rest."

He stalks away as fast as he can without looking suspicious and heads straight for his room on the _Ghost._ Once inside, he lets out the lungful of breath he'd been holding for the past few minutes. He starts to pace. Back and forth, back and forth, as he replays Ahsoka's words in his head.

Seeds of hope…strongest growth…most barren of places… Most _barren_.

Bahryn _._

Ahsoka wouldn't have bothered to be cryptic if she wasn't trying to tell him something. Something she couldn't come right out and say. Something secret that she believes Zeb has the means to decipher.

As far as Zeb can tell, there's only one thing this equation adds up to. And it's the clue he's been waiting for. The answer to the most important question.

The Lasat chuckles loudly and collapses onto his bunk. These have been two of the longest months of his life, and all this time Kallus has been busy. Busy contacting rebel intelligence from inside the empire. Busy getting himself through all the right channels until he reached someone who would listen, someone he could show his cards to.

Ahsoka knows about Bahryn because Kallus told her. He told her enough to earn her trust, and that means he told her everything. Everything as he saw it and felt it. If it was anything like what Zeb experienced, it was a convincing story.

Ahsoka isn't the only Fulcrum now. Zeb wonders how many others there have been, and if there has ever been one like Kallus. One who lived his whole life in service to the empire until the night he ceased to do so. One who's under cover as the man he used to be, the man he's trying to move away from.

Kallus is Fulcrum, and there's nothing Zeb can do to help him.

But that's a whole new can of worms Zeb is too overwhelmed to open at the moment, so he lies down. Goes right to sleep and dreams of glowing meteorites and the cold.


	3. Fulcrum Part 2

Three more months go by and they're by far the longest months of Zeb's life. Ahsoka didn't come back from Malachor. No one knows if she's alive or dead. But Fulcrums don't die that easily.

Zeb still thinks of Kallus and Bahryn every day. It's all he has of the man. And as far as Zeb knows, Fulcrum has been radio silent.

As far as he knows.

Commander Sato approaches Zeb while he's cleaning his bo-rifle.

"Captain, I need your help with something," the austere man says simply.

Zeb stands at attention. "What can I do, Commander?"

"Follow me."

Sato leads him to a small comms console suspiciously out of the way of all other rebel activity. Despite this, Sato looks around to make sure they're alone.

"At this time only I am authorized to receive Fulcrum's intel, but you have been granted temporary clearance by rebel high command for this most recent message."

Zeb's heart leaps into his throat.

"You should know this Fulcrum is not Ahsoka. This Fulcrum is…different. But the last part of the message is locked. I believe you have the key."

"What makes you say that?" Zeb stammers.

Sato presses a button on the console and the white mark of Fulcrum beams to life in front of him. " _Spectre Four, don't climb the walls."_

It's his voice. Distorted, but it's there. Zeb can practically hear Kallus saying it from atop his back, the sound of it bouncing off ice walls.

"Go up the pillars," he blurts out immediately.

" _Hello, Spectre-Four. This is Fulcrum."_

Zeb grasps the console, hard, to keep himself from shaking.

" _I don't have much time but I need to tell you you were right, about everything. About me. I didn't ask questions because I feared the answers. I feared them because I knew what they were. The answer is always the same. Your planet. I said it wasn't supposed to be a massacre. Of course it was. It's what we do. I smelled burning flesh and still I was able to blind myself to the truth. The truth of what we are, what_ I _am…"_

Zeb can see Kallus in his mind's eye, huddled in a dark corner, pouring his heart out into a communicator of some sort. He probably has that agonized look on his face, the one he got when he was being most honest with Zeb, with himself. The only difference now is Zeb can't reach out and touch him.

" _I don't want to be that person anymore. But I can't just walk away like nothing happened. I hurt people. I have to do something. I have to pay. This is the only way I know how. This is where I belong, for now. I…"_

Kallus gets choked up here, and he has to take a deep breath. Even with the distortion, Zeb can hear the torment in his voice. He grips the metal of the console tighter.

" _I wanted to go with you but I couldn't let you defend me to your family. Not when I'd done nothing to earn it. That's not your responsibility. It's mine and I'm trying to earn it. I'm trying to do what's right. It's because of you I have the strength to do any of this. If we see each other again I hope I'm someone you can find honorable. Fulcrum out."_

The white symbol disappears. Zeb doesn't move, silently begging it to come back. There's nothing but the quiet, and the furious pounding of his heart. He doesn't hear Sato clear his throat.

"I assume you know this Fulcrum's identity," the commander states.

Zeb releases the console and takes a wobbly step backwards. "Y-Yeah."

"That makes one of us. Don't share that information with anyone, not even me, although I am rather curious…" Sato pokes curiously at the console where it's been dented from Zeb's grasp.

"Can I send a message back?" Zeb asks.

"Ah. Unfortunately Fulcrum's communications are only one way. That may change, but right now high command has decided it's safest for everyone."

Zeb knows it was a long shot but he's still disappointed, not that he'd have any idea how to form a coherent response in his state. He just wants Kallus to know that he heard.

Sato presses a few buttons on the console and out pops a data chip. He hands the chip to Zeb. "This was meant for you."

Zeb takes it gingerly. "Th-Thank you," he manages to get out.

"It seems you're the one we should be thanking, Captain." Sato gives him a nod and disappears.

Zeb marvels at the tiny chip in his hand. It's all he has of Kallus since he left him on Bahryn. After a quick look around, Zeb slots the chip back into the console.

The white Fulcrum symbol reappears.

" _Spectre Four, don't climb the walls."_

"Go up the pillars," Zeb recites like a mantra.

The transmission plays all the way through again. Zeb hangs on every word, just to make sure he heard them right the first time.

He did.

Zeb takes the chip from the console and hides it in a compartment on his belt, safe. Then he runs.

He runs by Ezra who looks at him strangely. "What's goin' on, big guy?"

"Just need a run," Zeb tells him. It's not a lie.

The young Jedi shrugs. "Have fun!"

As Zeb leaves the perimeter of the base, he grabs one of the sensor markers to ward off any spiders unfortunate enough to cross his path.

Soon he's in a full-blown sprint through the Coral Mesa. He doesn't really know how long he runs, he just goes until he can't anymore. Then he drops to his knees and digs his claws into the dirt, holding on for dear life against the tempest roiling inside him. It roils right into a laugh that bubbles up from deep in his chest, even though he's still gasping for breath.

"I knew it! I kriffing knew you had it in you!" he bellows. It's so loud the earth beneath him seems to rumble its agreement.

Exhausted, Zeb flops onto the ground. He rolls onto his back and stares up at the purple sky. Somewhere out there, the Alexsandr Kallus he met on Bahryn is risking his life for the rebellion.

Zeb knew it meant something, him and Kallus. It wasn't just the cold or fear of death. It was real.

"I'm glad it meant as much to you as it did to me," he says into the universe. "But you better not get yourself killed. 'Cause if you die after all this, I'm gonna…"

Well, he doesn't know what he'd do. Go on living with a hole in his chest, he supposes. An emptiness never filled, a want never sated.

Zeb recalls vividly the feel of Kallus' body flush against his own, solid and strong but so honest in its need. That is something he'd very much like to explore deeper.

"Just make sure you come back to me, all right? I'll come get you if I have to."

With that, Zeb curls up on his side. It's the same position he was in on Bahryn, when Kallus opened up to him. Opened up _for_ him. He's never seen someone confront themselves like that before. Zeb's proud to have inspired it.

"I want to know…what we could be together," he murmurs.

Zeb wonders, if by some miracle Kallus does make it out, how he'll explain it to everyone. To Hera, Kanan, Ezra, Sabine… What will they say when they find out Kallus was on the moon with him, that Kallus is Fulcrum? What will they think of him and these feelings he has?

He'll have to tell them something. He's not ready to tell them everything. Not even close.

He's not even ready to get back on his feet and go back to base. Once he does he'll have to face the reality that everyone still thinks Kallus is a loyal imperial. Zeb wants to tell them that's not true anymore. But what would he say? There's a reason he hasn't breathed a word about his experience on Bahryn. He couldn't possibly do it justice enough to convince them of anything, least of all that Kallus has changed.

Zeb decides he won't tell anyone until he absolutely has to.


End file.
